


For a moment, he forgets

by knaveofmogadore



Category: The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, canon typical mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knaveofmogadore/pseuds/knaveofmogadore
Summary: It's easiest to lose yourself when the sun has not yet risen and you feel like you are alone. John finds himself in the early morning with the loves of his life beside him





	For a moment, he forgets

**Author's Note:**

> I had a really bad night the other night so I took it out on John for 1300 words

_Ringing, hollow, he was hollow, he was missing, the stone dug into his shredded skin, he was freezing, had never been this cold in his life, who is that, WAIT-_

John awoke in a cold sweat to being crushed on all sides, pressed down into the bed underneath an unyielding weight. He was still down there, he realized. He is down here in that cavern and any moment his ribcage will collapse and he will die. The mountain has come down on top of them and all of his friends are dead. 

The first tear surprised him when it rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his hair, leaving a trail of ice in its wake. The second came freely, and the third and the fourth. Every breath he took was painful. The weight on his chest pushed down on what was left of him until it felt like he was going to break in half. His breath hitched and he coughed weakly, and then he couldn’t get his breath back at all. Soon every breath was a sob or a cough and he was choking, how ironic that he was going to choke to death after everything else that had a chance to kill him had failed. The weight slid away unnoticed. 

There were noises now. Voices, distant as though they were coming through the rubble. Nine was yelling, he was always yelling and now the sound would haunt him for eternity down here. Adam was whispering, whispering and now that was the only thing he could hear. He would be stuck down here for an eternity of undying and getting crushed all the while listening to two of his best friends argue with each other until he finally got to die. Because of course they would spend the afterlife arguing with each other. 

In an instant there was light, and sound, and a painful shock went through his chest. John was sat up by a hand on his back. It was easier to breathe but now the pain was real. Sharp pain like knives stabbing into his chest and a burn on his skin that he didn’t have the presence of mind to heal. There was weight still on his back. Nine’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders and his weight presses into John’s left side. On his right Adam holds his hand in an iron grip, cutting off circulation to his fingers. Words were impossible but he managed some. 

“Get,” he wheezed, “get off of me.” 

Nine’s weight slid away with a curse and Adam dropped his hand. The absence left behind was as cold as the dark underneath the mountain. John reached out and grabbed something, _anything_ , as an anchor. In his left hand he held fabric. It was maybe a shirt. Maybe it was a pant leg, or the comforter. In his other hand he held Adam’s thin wrist in a death grip of his own. John curled in on himself and pressed his face to his knees to block out the bedroom lights. And then he cried. John cried more than he had ever let himself cry before, he cried like he was a child and the world was ending. Because once they had been children, and once it almost had. 

He let go of his boyfriends once he ran out of steam. Adam’s wrist cracked and Nine cursed but they were still distant sounds. John could not process them in a way that would make the words matter to him in this moment.

“Serves you right for burning his chest.” 

“How else was I supposed to wake him up? If I let you keep shaking him like that, he could have puked.” 

“Better puking than getting your flesh singed off.” 

“Not if he had aspirated on it!”

John coughed and wheezed and tried to pull a breath in through his congested nose. The resulting sound was disgusting enough to break up the argument. He could feel their attention return to him. Their gazes were so warm they burned. 

“What do you need, Johnny,” Nine asked softly. John shook his head in response because he didn’t know. It felt like he had just fallen back into his body after being away from it for years. His limbs were someone else's, this body’s pain came from somewhere else that was actually real. 

“I’ll go make some tea,” Adam said, with the first concrete idea among them.

“We’ll be with you in a minute.” 

There was a movement to his left. A kiss maybe, or a hand brushing a cheek. Being present for this moment was too difficult and John was getting sick to his stomach. 

~~

One second he was in their bed, and the next minute John was sitting at their small kitchen table. Logically he knew they must have walked down the hallway and through the living room to get here but he couldn’t remember when or how. The wood’s ridges hurt his fingertips. John folded his arms on the tabletop and rested his head in them, hoping to still the spinning of the room. Someone, probably Nine, was rubbing his back and he had no more strength left to tell him to stop. His boyfriends talked softly over his head. 

“Do you need me to help?” 

“I’m fine-” 

Nine’s derisive snort was easy to process and brought a smile to John’s face. He lost what Adam said in response. The hand on his back turned into fingers drawing patterns for a moment before returning. Adam’s complaints sounded closer and clearer. 

“I told you it’s fine, really, nothing is broken, no harm done.” 

The next few seconds passed in tense silence, and then, “It looks sprained.” 

“It always looks sprained since a guard in Alaska broke it. Can I go back to the tea now?” 

Nine’s voice was so soft John almost did not hear him asking “does it hurt?” 

“It’s only sore, I promise.” 

Adam wiggles his fingers, sparking static between them and demonstrating his new legacy to prove the point.

John sits up, confident now that he was not going to puke on their kitchen floor. He blinked away the sting in his eyes until someone turned off the kitchen lights. Now the only light in the room was the grey light of the distant dawn coming through the windows. He looked up and around until he saw Adam’s face, pinched in concern. His dark eyes were searching him for signs of the blind panic returning. John tried to smile reassuringly, but it must have looked more forced than he thought because Nine’s hand flexed against his back. He dropped the smile and somehow felt better. 

Wordlessly John reached out for Adam and held his hand out palm up. When Adam just stared at it he wiggled his fingers, _give it to me_. Gingerly he pulled his wrist away from Nine and let John take it gently in both of his hands. He was right, nothing was broken or sprained, but John healed it anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. 

“It’s ok, you didn’t do it on purpose,” Adam said. 

“I’m still sorry.” 

Adam turned his wrist and squeezed one of John’s hands in his own. John leans forward and rests his head against their clasped hands. They stay like that until the teapot begins to shriek and Adam goes to finish the tea. 

“Can I hold you now,” Nine asks. 

“Please,” John whispers. 

When Nine pulled John close he felt two arms and not one. Nine had had the presence of mind to put on his prosthetic, and John can see the metal hand resting on his arm. The fingers tangle in the fabric of his hoodie. He focuses on the shine of the metal and the smell of tea filling their tiny kitchen. Nine’s weight, the smell of Adam’s tea, and the glint of metal fingers in the dim light of the morning. Little things. The simple things that reassure him that everything had finally turned out ok.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry Carmina, I promise this isn't your IOU fic


End file.
